


If We're Gonna Survive

by h_itoshi



Series: 30 fics in 60 days [3]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, I promise the rating is mostly for blowjob, I've done this universe before but nobody read it, M/M, mentions of corona scare lol, some wounds and blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23759665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_itoshi/pseuds/h_itoshi
Summary: Yamada was always special to him, ever since they met when they were ten years old. They always somehow stuck together, best friends and still something else, and if there was one thing Chinen was stressing about Before, it was how he felt about Yamada.Prompt: Patching each other up
Relationships: Chinen Yuri/Yamada Ryosuke
Series: 30 fics in 60 days [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705969
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	If We're Gonna Survive

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel, spoiler and shameless plug for a fic I personally really like but pretty much nobody read (Because of the warnings, I KNOW, so this is a much milder thing set in the same au but I still wanna mention it): [Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664774)
> 
> You can definitely read this without reading that though, but if you want like this and want to read more, you know where to find it ;D

Chinen senses something is wrong the second Yamada enters the room. Something about his steps, his mood, is off, and it makes Chinen look up from his book.

Yamada's in his usual attire, black ripped jeans and a dark T-shirt, a couple necklaces and a black leather bracelet. What he doesn't wear is the leather jacket, and he looks somehow smaller without it, more like the boy Chinen used to know Before.

“What's wrong?” He asks, not moving from where he's leaning against the headboard with the open book resting against his legs.

“Nothing.” Yamada snaps, but he's so transparent it's ridiculous as he changes the subject immediately. “Why do you keep reading all the time, what's the point?”

Chinen looks down at the book, at the slightly scorched cover edges and the dark stains at the top of half the pages. It survived from those book burnings that occurred very soon after everything changed, when people were so furious with culture and science they just burned them, like they thought that erasing the writing would erase the mindset.

“I like to keep my mind busy.” Chinen replies. It's mostly true.

He hates living in a world like this, a dystopian reality nobody thought would ever occur in their lifetime. He saw the movies like everyone else, the zombie apocalypses, nature turning on humanity and nuclear bombs blasting reality away. He liked them, thought about them a bit after leaving the movie theatre and then went back to his ordinary life, stressing over school and friends and his future like anyone else.

And then it happened. Nothing like the movies. It was slow and almost deliberate, a disease nobody would take seriously at first because it was no match against modern medicine. Until people started dying. Old people at first, then crawling down through the ages, otherwise healthy people catching it and dying. There was global panic, which slowly eased, until another year came with another mutation in the virus, and slowly, humanity changed.

Older people couldn't fight the infection, children's immune system wasn't developed enough, and all that was left in the end was young adults.

Chinen remembers the day the prime minister died, and there was no one to take his place. It seems like things went so fast when he thinks back on it, but there were years crawling by without any cure being found, science getting nowhere.

In a way, it was a relief when his father died. His mother was taken early on, in one of the first outbursts, but when his father died, Chinen simply left his home to find another one out there. He was so sick of being stuck inside, of being strictly controlled by a government that was quickly falling to pieces as a particularly aggressive virus strain sweeped the world clean. He clearly was immune enough not to catch it, and he didn't have to answer to anyone anymore.

He still doesn't know where his sister is, since she got stuck abroad before a lockdown and he doesn't know if she ever made it home. If she's still alive. Communication was one of the first things to go.

“Then read something useful.” Yamada tells him, looking at the old mystery novel in Chinen's hands.

His expression betrays him, the strong facade a little ruffled, and Chinen looks him over until he finds his hands by his sides. There's a piece of dirty fabric wrapped around his left hand's fingers, something very similar to blood soaking through it.

Despite everything they've been through together, there's a painful stab of fear in Chinen's heart as he notices, because he hates seeing Yamada bleed. Bleeding is dangerous in a world like this.

“... What did you do?” Chinen asks calmly, ignoring his heartrate speeding up on the inside. He knows Yamada wasn't hurt by anyone from the outside, and that must mean he somehow brought this on himself.

As the leader, he single-handedly controls more city sectors than anyone else, and here, inside his own home, nobody could hurt him. There are too many people who would die before anyone got close to him.

Yamada sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed and hangs his head in irritation.

“I stabbed myself.” He admits, mostly sounding mad at himself, and Chinen gets it, even if he doesn't want to get it.

It's a scene he will always remember crystal clear in his head. The memory that defines who he is today, in this world.

Yamada was always special to him, ever since they met when they were ten years old. They always somehow stuck together, best friends and still something else, and if there was one thing Chinen was stressing about Before, it was how he felt about Yamada.

But when the world changed, there was no room for question marks. They kissed for the first time in broad daylight, in the middle of the abandoned street, promising to stay together, whatever it took.

He remembers when they finally got a hold of some supplies, of water and bread, real, actual bread, and there was a gang of at least five older and bigger guys cornering them in an alley. He remembers Yamada's face as he sat leaning against the brick wall with his eyebrow busted and a couple ribs cracked, his breathing shallow and his eyes black with fury.

“I'm never losing a fight again.” He'd promised, his voice so rich with anger and reassurance that Chinen almost started crying.

“I'll never let you bleed again.” He'd promised back, and as they looked at each other, bruised and hungry and alone, Chinen knew that nothing could ever come between them.

And now here they are, with at least 200 people below them, and Yamada's never lost a fight since that day.

“That was stupid.” Chinen tells him, slowly putting his book aside and getting up from the bed.

“Shut up.” Yamada says, but there's none of the power in his voice that he uses for everyone else. With Chinen, he doesn't have to be a leader, doesn't have to be ruthless and fearless. With Chinen, he's just Ryosuke.

Chinen ignores him, moving over to the old dressing table left in the room since the time it was a luxurious hotel suite. There's a well put together first aid kit in there, hidden away under clothes, because even if they can keep the best things for themselves without question now, Chinen still doesn't trust anyone.

“Is it bad?” He asks instead, grasping the bag and returning to the bed.

“I don't think so.” Yamada sighs, his shoulders finally relaxing as Chinen settles on the floor in front of him, carefully taking Yamada's wrapped up hand between his own. “It just bleeds a lot.”

“I don't like when you bleed.” He says, and Yamada looks down at him, his eyes serious and dark, because he knows very well what Chinen means.

That whenever Yamada gets hurt he feels like he should have been there to take the blow for him, to keep him safe. Yamada's been hurt a lot since that one time in the alley, more or less severely, but Chinen has never once left his side when it happened. He's tended to wounds, cared for bruises and fractures, and there was even that time when he stitched up Yamada's arm with a sterilized sewing needle and button thread. It could be the worst thing he's ever done, emotionally and physically, and he's killed people since then.

“I'm sorry.” Yamada says, voice soft and gentle, an aching reminder of when they were 18 and everything was fine, when they would go for a drive and get milkshakes and go to the beach to talk about their dreams.

Chinen doesn't reply, simply unwraps the fabric around Yamada's hand, his fingers shaking the slightest as he wonders what he's about to see. Yamada pretends they don't, and Chinen is grateful for it.

The cloth falls to the floor, and Chinen draws a deep breath before inspecting the damage. There's a cut on his ring finger, on the outer side between the first two joints, a clean v-shape wound with a flap of skin gaping a little. It does still bleed, but clearly not as much as it did before, dried blood smeared over Yamada's fingers and hand making it look worse than it is.

“What did you do?” Chinen asks to distract himself from the nauseating feeling of seeing so much of Yamada's blood outside his body.

He's not afraid of blood, not at all. He finds it fascinating, how it's so crucial for survival, how easy it is to drain it from a body. But he can't handle it when it's Yamada's own, because he's not allowed to die. Nobody's allowed to drain the blood from his body, not even Yamada himself.

“You know what I did.” Yamada tells him evenly, and Chinen does know.

Yamada's favourite weapon is a knife, sharp, lethal and quick while still allowing for close combat. And he spends a lot of time practising his precision, keeping himself ready for anything. They may be at the top now, but there's no telling for how long that will last.

So he doesn't reply, simply takes the disinfectant wipes out and starts rubbing one along Yamada's fingers to clean off the blood.

He loves Yamada's hands, how they're so small but so strong, masculine yet delicate. He's wearing a ring on his middle finger, and Chinen gently slides it off and puts it on his own finger for safekeeping as he slowly scrubs the blood from Yamada's skin.

Yamada exhales slowly, the breath coming out shaky in the silence of the room, and Chinen's eyes inevitably drop to his crotch because he knows that sound.

He lingers for a moment at the start of a bulge in Yamada's tight jeans, but then the wipe touches the open wound and Yamada hisses, making Chinen's focus return to what he's doing.

The wound starts bleeding again as he carefully rubs it with the wipe, the loose skin flap moving along with Chinen's movements and it's gross, but he knows this has to be done.

Yamada's breath is controlled now, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, but his fingers twitch a little involuntarily in pain.

In a sadistic way, Chinen enjoys this, because it's almost like he gets to reprimand Yamada for getting hurt.

“How did it go with loverboy today?” Yamada asks, mostly through clenched teeth, but the harsh tone can't be attributed to the pain.

“Good.” Chinen says gently as he drops the wipe to the floor and reaches for a gauze compress. “He's sweet.”

“Bet he is.” Yamada mutters, and Chinen pointedly puts the compress against the wound and presses harder than he has to in order to stop the bleeding.

Yamada flinches at the pressure but then relaxes, looking a little guilty, and Chinen loves how expressive his face is when they're alone.

“He's sweet, and I'm sorry he has to die.” Chinen says firmly, and Yamada meets his eyes, his gaze serious. “But I know he has to.”

“He does.” Yamada agrees, and Chinen eases a little on the pressure when the blood stops soaking through the gauze.

It's probably the most elaborate scheme they've ever tried to gain more power, but there seemed to be absolutely no way into Yabu's ranks, until they found Takaki. Chinen's spent the better half of two months charming him, drawing him in like a poor little fly getting wrapped tighter in the spider's web. Takaki loves him, he's sure of that, and believes that Chinen loves him back. It's tragic, but Chinen can't seem to feel the tragedy in his heart, only his body. If they're taking Yabu down, Takaki is a necessary sacrifice.

“I'll do anything for you.” Chinen says as he looks up at Yamada, and he means it with every cell in his body. In the old world, he'd probably be locked up as a psycho for the things he's already done for Yamada, but the old world doesn't exist anymore.

“And I'll do anything for you.” Yamada says back, and to Chinen, those words are better than a love confession. Love can be fleeting, changing, uncertain, but complete devotion is different. A thing to hang onto in this world, something to live for. A purpose.

Chinen breaks eye contact after a long moment, reaching for a fresh, thicker compress and gauze, carefully removing the bloody one from the wound that doesn't bleed anymore. He puts the new compress against the wound and slowly starts tying it in place, brushing Yamada's palm unnecessarily with his fingers as he does.

Yamada sighs, and Chinen shifts closer reflexively. He uses up half the gauze before settling it's enough, tearing it off with practised ease before reaching for a piece of tape to secure it. There's flex wrap and cotton rolls in the bag before him, but this isn't a heavy bandage. Just something to keep the blood in and the infections out.

He rips off a piece of tape and wraps it carefully around the loose gauze end, finishing off his makeshift bandage, but then he lingers, fingertips carefully brushing the insides of Yamada's fingers, the tan lines from his rings.

Yamada gasps, trying to cover it up as a deeper breath, and it makes Chinen smile.

He leans in to place a gentle, finishing kiss on top of Yamada's knuckles, like a knight would kiss a princess, but Yamada's fingers flex, both hands cupping Chinen's face and tilting it up.

Yamada almost folds himself in half to be able to lean down and kiss him, the intensity of his kiss making Chinen give up any control to him immediately, his hands rising to rest on Yamada's thighs on either side of him.

Yamada urges Chinen's mouth open easily, and Chinen sighs against Yamada's lips as fingers sift carefully through his hair while the other hand still cups his cheek.

“I love you.” Yamada whispers as the kiss breaks, leaning his forehead against Chinen's, and Chinen's fingers curl against Yamada's jeans in a purely emotional response.

It makes Yamada shift a little, his hips pushing forward a couple inches, and Chinen smiles, splaying his palms over the insides of Yamada's thighs.

He slips out of Yamada's hold and settles more comfortably on his knees, before leaning in to nose at the bulge in Yamada's pants that he's eye level with in this position. Normally, he loves the fact that danger and damage turns Yamada on, but sometimes, he hates it. Hates it because it makes him take unnecessary risks.

Yamada's gasp is unashamed this time, the hand that was in Chinen's hair easily returning to stroke his bangs back.

Chinen shuffles closer, nudging the first aid kit aside with his knee as he crawls up between Yamada's legs, loving the way they spread to accommodate him.

He easily gets Yamada's pants open, having done so more times than he can remember, and he doesn't bother trying to take them off, simply pushes down the waistband of his underwear to wrap fingers around his erection.

Yamada's head falls back on a long, slow exhale, and it looks so beautiful it should be old school erotica, captured forever in a black and white photograph.

Chinen doesn't take his eyes off him as he leans in to wrap his lips around the head of Yamada's erection, lapping up salty precome as Yamada's fingers tighten in his hair.

He knows exactly how to do this to make it good, how much pressure to apply, how to stroke what he can't reach with his mouth and when to suck harder. Sometimes, he likes to draw it out, to watch Yamada lose his sense of reality for him, making him a shivering mess asking for relief only Chinen can give him. And sometimes, he enjoys playing all his trumph cards at the same time and push Yamada over the edge so quickly he gets embarrassed. Today is more of the latter.

Yamada's fingers are tight in his hair, not really guiding his rhythm but definitely holding him where he wants him, but Chinen doesn't mind. Yamada's making tiny, breathy noises, an occasional full moan breaking them off, and Chinen loves those, those rich sounds of pleasure that makes his own nervous system sparkle.

“I'm-” Yamada warns, and Chinen hums in response, with makes the rest of Yamada's words a choked mess.

Chinen raises his free hand to brush Yamada's wounded one on his thigh, and Yamada comes hot and salty into Chinen's mouth with a whiny noise and a small cant of his hips.

Chinen pulls off, swallowing because it's easy, then places a tiny kiss against the shaft of Yamada's cock before tucking him back into his pants.

“Fuck.” Yamada sighs, his chest heaving with breaths he's trying to catch, and Chinen smiles, placing a soft kiss against the inside of Yamada's thigh in a moment of affection.

“I love you too.” He says, his tone coming out playful if a little ragged, and Yamada laughs.

It's the best sound Chinen knows, because it's uncommon these days, a pure, amused laugh.

“Come on up from there.” Yamada urges, grasping for Chinen's arms to pull him onto the bed instead.

Chinen's legs protest a little, and he half stumbles onto the bed, falling mostly on top of Yamada, who tries to keep his wounded hand out of the way.

“You're something special, aren't you?” Yamada asks him, but Chinen doesn't get a chance to reply before Yamada's kissing him and a thigh rubs up against his own erection.

Whatever he was about to say disappears in a shameless moan, and as Yamada rolls them over to push him down against the mattress, he gives up on thinking for a while.


End file.
